


The Ones That Are Missed

by BakerStTardis (Sokashi)



Series: Hobbit Advent [25]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:59:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokashi/pseuds/BakerStTardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hobbit Advent Day Twenty Five. Prompt family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ones That Are Missed

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, this one is sad. I wanted to end on a happier note, but this all spilled out and I like it. So don't read unless you have something cheerful for after.

Thorin laid in his bedroll and stared up into the darkness. Rain dripped outside, a steady sound, and the cold and damp had sunk deep into him. He felt alone.

He had his people, yes, scattered through the Blue Mountains and beyond. They greeted him cheerfully, they enjoyed his company, but he still found himself like this. Alone, far from home. It was a wet, cold winter with little but more wet and cold on the horizon. He got up and worked everyday because he needed to. There was nothing else. Take care of his people. Keep them fed and warm and safe. The responsibility wasn't new and the burden hadn't grown, but it was constant and heavy and left him so very alone. 

Thorin shifted irritatedly, annoyed by his own maudlin thoughts. He had family, yes. There was still Dis and her young sons, a various field of cousins, but.... In the dark like this Thorin couldn't drive away the ache of what once was. A great family that filled the halls of his homeland, boisterous, messy, overbearing, but alive and well and HIS. 

There had been warm fires in hearths large enough to fit a dozen dwarves. There had been playful, rambunctious piles of fighting cousins. Children's laughter cutting squealing through the din of bellowing voices and old stories retold so many times that Thorin used to roll his eyes and mouth the lines that hadn't changed in a hundred years. Decorations had coated stone walls so heavily they couldn't be seen and presents were piled together so high they made a mountain in the room. The air always smelled of cornbread stuffing and hot meat and too many old dwarves gathered smoking together. Family had come from all over the kingdom, even some from the Blue Mountains then and the Iron Hills. They'd spent days celebrating. Eating and singing and fighting and gift giving all rolling together until it was several days later and exhausted, they'd waved goodbye to the visiting until the next year.

Thorin closed eyes that were welling up in sorrow. They'd had no clue there wouldn't be a next year. 

He missed so much. The worry of finding that perfect present. The fuss over which pies should be made that year. The joy of watching someone be given something they loved. The love of being given something someone had worked so hard on. The mess of cleaning up afterward. The togetherness.

Tears spilled over, silent in the night. He missed lying in a room knowing those he loved surrounded him. Were safe. He missed the way a face would light up with joy after being away so long. He missed the companionable look he'd share across the room over the more annoying family members. He missed his brother at his side and his father ahead. He missed his mother's forehead pressed against his own and the way she smiled, so proud. 

Thorin sniffed once, harshly, and rolled to the side, blankets pulled up about his ears. Once the tears started, they didn't stop but he refused to dignify them by wiping them away. If he was going to do this, then he would savor it. Deliberately, he recalled that last great Christmas. Before the dragon. Before his grandfather's sickness had started to show. It glittered in his mind more than the memory of any jewel. Colors vibrant, the murmur of comforting voices filling his ears, the feel of warmth and peace filling the rest of him.

He lingered. He clung, but the memory was faded. Only an impression after all this time. It left him wet faced and head clogged with emotion, twisted in his blankets aching in the darkness. Still alone. 

Tomorrow would see him up again. Working. Eventually he'd have enough to go back to the Blue Mountains and know he'd done all he could for now. Dis would be waiting. Fili and Kili would be loud enough for a roomful of dwarves. Dwalin and Balin would sit and smoke with him into the night. It wouldn't be a same. But it was enough. Enough to live for. Enough to keep fighting.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it! The last one! I'm so glad I managed to do this. I think its helped me a lot and everyone's encouragement has been wonderful! Thank you very much for reading!


End file.
